


Selection of Moments

by Roche715



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roche715/pseuds/Roche715
Summary: Miscellaneous ficlets and drabbles that are unconnected. Multiple different ratings, will be marked in notes.
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 10
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated G

“Hey Scully.”

I turn. His hands grab just below his pants pockets, head down, bunching fabric to crouch stiffly over the concrete. Rounded copper flashes dully beside the toe of his shoe. His face angles upwards.  
“A penny.” He says. The skin around his eye’s crinkles.

It’s not too often I get to see him from above like this. 

“Good luck.” He says.

The pop of joints strained too far makes melody with his groans. I make no attempt to hold back a chuckle. 

“You might have used up all that luck to get back upright.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T

“Mmmmm, Mulder…” Her voice is scratchy, fresh from sleep, but the low timbre sounds heavenly in his ears.

“…I love when you do this.” She arches, eyes closed.

His hand flexes, fingers slipping through her silken tresses, nails scratching lightly across her scalp.

“I figured you would...”

A smirk spreads across his face, watching as she purrs like a cat, the tan freckles dotting her blissed out face made bolder by the early morning light. The vibrations of her humming intensify as she burrows closer, skin on skin underneath the sheets.

“…I always love when you do it to me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated G

She is sitting, looking up at him and trying to hold back the laughter threatening to burst forth. It’s hard though. He just looks so cute.

Mulder is standing before her, drowning in the fabric of the massive sweatshirt she’s owned since college, her favorite to sleep in on cold nights. His shirt lays ruined, the lone casualty of a run-in with a pot of spaghetti sauce.

He starts wiggling his arms wildly, flopping the ends of extra-long sleeves in her direction.

“If this is how you feel when you wear my clothes, I understand why you steal my shirts.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated G  
> *Spoilers for The Amazing Maleeni*

Four hours before their flight out, he dragged her back to the pier, still puzzled as to how Maleeni manage to perform a 360 with the noggin. Now she’s sure that was just subterfuge, an excuse to bring her here.

“Come on Scully, it’ll be fun. And this haunted house is fake, so we don’t have to worry about shooting each other this time.” 

She’s shaking her head, lips pursed, one eyebrow elevated. This is the second time this week he’s convinced her to do something ridiculous, because of course she’s going to go into this haunted house with him. 

“I keep telling you that we imagined that Mulder.”

He steps closer, smiling. “If you’re worried about being scared…” His fingers brush the skin of her wrist. “…we can always hold hands.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E

The smell of her surrounds us and it’s quite possible I’ll lose my mind if I don’t taste her. 

She huffs, annoyed, when I pull away, but her eyes light up when I bring my hand to my mouth, sucking in the fingers coated with her slickness. Musky and tangy and so perfectly Scully.

“Ohhh… I want a taste.” Her dainty little hand comes up and grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking until we meet, tongues first, licking the sweetness of her cunt off my lips and out of my mouth. 

I think I still might lose my mind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated G

When he says, _Here, let me show you how I do it_ , she neglects to inform him that she already knows how. One summer in high school she had spent a week helping Charlie set up an aquarium.

“Just a couple pinches. Although you probably have to so a few more pinches that I do.” He has a goofy grin when she looks over in confusion. “Mighty small hands you got there.”

She butts him with her shoulder but there is no malice.

Dropping in the last of the pellets, they stay standing over the tank, squeezed into the space between his couch and the wall to watch the fish dart upwards to grab mouthfuls of the drifting bits of food. Listening to the bubble of the tank filter, she becomes acutely aware of their closeness, aware of the comfort she feels being there next to him. Somehow the moment feels intimate, but in a way that makes her warm and happy rather than awkward and uneasy.

She puts a finger up to the glass, cooing softly when one fish follows along as she traces a pattern across the surface.

“He likes you.” He murmurs, tracking her movements.

“He does.” Silence falls for a few more moments. “Do you give them names?”

“You’re gonna laugh at me but I actually name them all after lake monsters.” She does laugh, shaking her head at how predictably ridiculous he is.

“That one is called Bozho, named after the serpent-like creature said to live in Lake Mendota, in Wisconsin. It’s known for playing pranks on visitors to the lake.”

“Pranks?” She questions, looking up at him.

“Tickling the feet of those who choose to go out for a swim.” He responds, smiling widely. 

“Of course. A serpent-like, foot tickling lake monster.” Returning her gaze to the tank, Bozho the fish has seemingly lost interest, floating off to hide behind a leafy plant.

Dropping her hand, she steps out of the corner and into the room, heading towards the door. As much as she has been enjoying herself, it’s probably time to head home. “Well, I should be heading out.”

“Okay. Thanks again for helping me out while I’m gone.” He says, hand on her shoulder as he guides her over to the door and opens it.

“It’s no problem.” Stepping out into the hallway, she faces him. “Enjoy your trip. I’ll see you on Monday.” He returns the sentiment, promising to bring back a souvenir, waving her off down the hallway and through the closing elevator doors.

No way she would have thought they would be here, those few months ago when she was first assigned to the X-Files. Partners that didn’t just tolerate each other. Friends even.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated G

“Wait, hold on, you just got a little…” She reaches up, wiping at the smudge of cardinal red lipstick left behind on the crest of his upper lip. The soft skin catches under her thumb, swollen and moist, a residual of their close encounter. She holds up the stained finger for him to see, pulling a tissue from the nearby box to rub the mark away.

“Not exactly your color,” she jokes, smoothing her skirt and stepping around him to exit the office.

When he grabs her waist, stepping close for another kiss, she gets the impression he doesn’t care.


	8. Fuzz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T ??? I think maybe it's more G but I guess it's implied sexual content? But not really

Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes impish and so inviting, and all he wants to do is strip her of these clothes. His hand skims low, knuckles grazing the furrow of her belly button, lifting the band of her hose from her body. 

He’s startled when she intakes a sharp breath, batting away his hand, but is immediately soothed when she giggles, playful, whispering “Mulder, that tickles.” He smiles so wide it hurts.

Her small fingers grip his own, rubbing through the fine hairs that cover the back of his hand. “Fuzzy,” she murmurs, then melts back into his embrace.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated G

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Your mouth is all pouty and you got your eyebrows all low, you know precisely what I mean. I know all your tricks and I won’t fall for them.” A pair of glasses are adjusted as the turning pages rustle, somehow sounding just as crotchety as the accompanying harrumph. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to read.”

“Fine. I’ll be over here with my lips and my eyebrows whenever you’re done.”

“…”

A sigh is audible, as is the sound of a book being placed on a nightstand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left it kind of ambiguous whose saying what cause I think it's more fun that way. But I know who I think is saying what in my mind.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated G. Wanted to write something with Skinner because I love Skinner and this is what I came up with.

“That will be all for today, agents.”

As they stand, Scully taps Mulder on the arm, prompting him to reach into his blazer.

“Sir.” She says, and the amount of mirth in her tone makes him suspicious. “We know it’s a bit early, but we figured since we are about to leave for a case, we should do this now.”

Mulder pulls out something that appears to be a small box, placing it on the desk in front of Skinner.

“Happy Birthday.” Mulder proclaims with a grin.

Hesitantly picking up the box, Skinner recognizes it as a wooden desk organizer, three holes lining the top face for pens and pencils. Across on the front, in big bold letters, were the words ‘ _World’s Best Boss’._

“Oh.” This is actually not a bad gift, Skinner thinks. “Thanks. This is nice.”

“Glad you like it.” Scully’s voice carries as both agents step towards the door of his office.

As Mulder steps into the doorframe he turns, suppressing a smirk. “Actually Sir, you’re missing the best part.” His hands move in pantomime, flipping the box over.

Engraved on the bottom, embellished in gold and written in a loopy script was the word _‘Skinman’_. By the time Skinner looks up, both agents have disappeared.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T (I think? Implied sexual content, but nothing explicit)

"Mulder." His name morphs into a sigh, dissipates like dew under early morning sunlight.

He doesn’t quite process what she wants, misinterpreting her utterance as encouragement, verbal expression of her approval. He pushes on, multiplying his efforts.

"Mulder." This comes out with more force, desperation.

His gaze comes up to meet hers, and he understands what she wants. What she needs. She relaxes a clenched fist, reaches, links her fingers with his.

Their eyes stay locked.

He shifts his jaw, hears the scrape of stubble against her skin. A twist of the tongue and he watches, basks in the pleasure that radiates from her in waves.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T

Fresh from the shower and starkly nude, Mulder rummages through the second drawer on his side of the dresser, searching for a clean shirt to throw on. He senses Scully’s presence a second before he feels her, both palms pressing firmly into his behind.

“Hey!” he yells, exaggerated outrage that makes her hum into his back. “You can look for free, but touching is gonna cost you, little lady.”

She giggles, pokes her head around his shoulder so that their eyes just meet when he turns his neck. The smirk she wears is mischievous. 

“Can’t buy something that’s already mine.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated G

The sun is sinking in his periphery, a bright backdrop, casting her in darkness. She exists as a silhouette, propped against the porch railing by both elbows and one leg bent at the knee. One finger hooked in the belt loop of her blue jean cut-offs, he tugs, leverage to propel himself into her orbit, closing the gap between them. The move provides clarity, brings her fine features into focus. He rocks back and forth, considering.

“You think if we started making out right now your brother would come over and deck me?” he questions for only her to hear. Even without turning, Mulder can feel the gaze of the eldest Scully sibling boring through the side of his head.

“Mulder.” Her disapproval is softened by a half-smothered chuckle.

“You think Bill is ever gonna like me?” An eyebrow raised in response.

“Will he ever not hate me?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“It’s not likely.” 

Stubbornness is intrinsic to the Scully family, he knows. On a good day, it can be framed as persistence.

“Well…” he trails off, once again considering. The hands that were dangling by her side now come up to grip his wrists, scrolling figure eights on the tendons that run up his forearm. It tickles something inside of him.

Worrying faded denim between index and thumbnail, he splays the rest of his fingers in the space above her waistband and below the trim of her too-short shirt. The shadow of her belly button flirts with exposure. She is warm, remnants of the last sunscreen application making the glide of his fingers up and down her back fluid. 

“I’ve got nothing to lose then,” he murmurs to her lips more than her eyes, making contact with them only a second later.


End file.
